


Collars and Stones

by rxi19



Category: Original Work
Genre: Begging, Collars, Diplomacy, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Fluff and Smut, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Light BDSM, Submissive Male, dominant female, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26870311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxi19/pseuds/rxi19
Summary: My first attempt at a femdom-themed Kinktober, though it will most likely extend through 2021, as I am... slow, to say the least. Regardless, I hope it is enjoyable to read.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Phoenix/Caela
Kudos: 23





	Collars and Stones

**Author's Note:**

> Phoenix and Caela, a smutty continuation.

Phoenix nestled discreetly against his Mistress, fingers resting casually against his collarbone as if to draw attention to the collar loosely buckled about his neck. Though he had never been educated in diplomacy, he found it no challenge to marvel at his Mistress’s eloquence, quietly basking in her presence as she conducted business as usual. The polite efficiency with which she conducted her affairs seemed so  _ effortless _ , even if Phoenix knew that it was anything but. Every evening, as the night drew its dark curtains over the city, the austere persona that his Mistress bore fell away with her silks and brocades, discarded to reveal the tired face of a woman at odds with the world, a woman whose job demanded more of her than she had to give.

Phoenix loved every part of his Mistress, but he took a special joy in seeing the side of her that no other was privy to. The simple gift of her trust brought him far more delight than could any drug or drink; he spent his waking moments anticipating the moment the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the moment his Mistress’s cool facade would crumble from her face, the moment he would be compelled to fall upon his knees and lay his head upon her lap as she perched at the end of her bed.

With the way the visiting diplomats were behaving, Phoenix wagered that she would be particularly stressed that night. He suppressed a delighted shiver at the thought, swallowing his excitement as a shadow of guilt twinged in his gut. He was far from sadistic, and the thought of taking joy in his Mistress’s irritation was one that made him cringe. However, the roughness with which she carded her fingers through his hair sent delightful trembles down his back, and he didn’t dare imagine how he might be treated once the doors of her chambers shut behind them, lest he embarrass himself in front of the visiting dignitaries.

So, he kept his posture straight and his cheeks unblushed, enjoying the fingers in his hair as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. The meeting ended with little fanfare, each party departing after exchanging the necessary pleasantries. Phoenix trailed after his Mistress as she strode down the halls, each authoritative step echoing through the domed corridors. He sometimes wondered if her shoes had metal soles (how else could he so easily distinctify her steps from anyone else’s?). 

Phoenix’s right hand absentmindedly fiddled with the D-ring dangling from his collar, anticipating the moment that it would reunite with its matching chain. Luckily enough for him, he wouldn’t have long to wait. Within the span of a hundred paces lay his Mistress’s chambers, and, filled with a characteristic eagerness, Phoenix quickened his steps, all but draping himself over his Mistress’ shoulders as she stopped before her bedroom door. Sweetly scented air buffeted the both of them as the heavy door swung open on oiled hinges, smelling faintly of old perfume and fresh bedsheets. 

As calmly as he could manage, Phoenix moved to stand by the length of the bed, shifting from foot to foot as he eagerly awaited orders. His Mistress delicately seated herself at the edge of her mattress, languidly stretching her arms above her head. With a soft groan, she turned her head to contemplate the man standing beside the headboard. 

He truly was a beautiful specimen. Caela’s fingers itched to line his chest with scratches, to mark his neck with bruises, to curl into his silken hair and  _ pull _ . As if he could sense her intentions, Phoenix glanced up, lips curling demurely as he met her gaze with his own. Caela hid a smile of her own, instead fixing her face into one of barely vested interest. A single eyebrow cocked, her gaze raking up and down his body as if she could see through the soft linens draped about his form. 

“Why are you all the way over there?” she asked, finally. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Phoenix moved to kneel before her, head tilted to slyly reveal his slender neck. Caela admired the way the gilded collar looked as it encircled the base of his neck, a beautifully decadent symbol of his submission to her—all the more beautiful with the knowledge that he bore it with an effervescent pride. The incline of his neck was telling; Phoenix wasn’t unaware of the way his collar flashed in the lantern light when he bared his neck, that much Caela knew. The expectant look he wore attested to that.

With practiced movements, Caela raised her hand to the shiny links draped around her neck, searching for the clasp. Catching it between her fingertips, she unlatched the necklace, enjoying the rasp of the silver links as they slithered from her neck. The intricate chain was just as functional as it was decorative, and, as lovely a statement it made while circling her neck, it made an even  _ better _ statement when linked to the collar at her sweet consort’s throat.

She made a show of examining the chain, smiling as Phoenix failed to swallow a whimper. The silver links shone glittered in the lamplight, throwing bright dots against the wall. It was a noble thing—passed from mother to daughter through the generations. Caela wagered she was the first to find such a fitting use for it, though. 

Before she had taken power, the necklace had spent most of its days gathering dust in a fancy case, more a symbol of heritage than anything else. Now, though, it saw near-daily use. That wasn’t to say Caela enjoyed wearing it; as beautiful as it was, not every ambassador took kindly to what they saw as blatant flaunting of her mineral resources. No, the necklace was used in a far more satisfying way; as soon as the sun set, the silver chain unraveled from its place, clipping into place… 

Phoenix swallowed as his Mistress’s fingernail grazed his neck; it was on purpose, he knew it; her hands were as steady as those of a watchmaker, and every movement she made was no less calculated than any other. His leash rasped prettily, links scraping against one another like leaves in the wind. He didn’t even try to suppress the soft, pleading whine that escaped his throat. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Caela asked conversationally. She twined the end of the necklace between her fingers, smiling as Phoenix leaned forward to allow the leash more slack. “It’s a heavy thing—an heirloom, passed down from my mother, and from her mother before her. _ I  _ think you deserve it, my beautiful boy. Always working so hard to please me, to be  _ such _ a good boy for me, right?”

“Of- Of course, my lady,” he said, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I do. And have I- have I pleased you?”

The leash grew shorter as Caela rhythmically rolled her wrist, wrapping a length of the chain around her fist with each rotation. Phoenix let her pull him closer, tentatively rubbing his cheek against her knee. What a pretty sight he made, kneeling before the footboard of the bed like a well-behaved pet. 

“Have you pleased me?” Caela echoed, cupping his cheek in her free hand. Heat flushed her body as he shoved his face into her palm, whimpering like a starved puppy. She stroked the soft skin of his face with her thumb, enjoying the soft noises that escaped him with each movement of her fingers. Her movements slowed as she thoughtfully cocked her head, pretending to think it over. “Well, well. I did enjoy your company today, my sweet pet. What were you thinking about that had you all riled up?” Phoenix stiffened as her lips curled into a smile. “What, you think I didn’t notice? Oh, darling, no. You’re easier to read than a picture book, pet.”

“My  _ lady _ ,” Phoenix mumbled, heat suffusing his cheeks. His eyelashes fluttered as he cast his gaze aside, too embarrassed to look her in the face. Attempting to distract her, he nosed against her fingers, pressing small kisses to the calluses lining her palms. Undeterred, Caela pulled her hand away, softly ignoring his cry of protest. His stubborn refusal to detail his fantasies persisted, embarrassment briefly overpowering his desperation to please.

This wouldn’t do.

With a motion as sharp as it was tender, she jerked the leash upward, forcing his face toward hers. Her other hand darted to steady his chin, fingernails dipping little crescents into the soft skin under his neck. In a deathly soft voice, she asked again. “ _ What _ were you thinking about, sweet pea? Why don’t you tell me, preferably  _ before _ I decide that this is insubordination?”

“I’m not being insubordinate,” he protested unconvincingly. Hearing the weakness in his words, he swapped tactics. Fluttering his eyelashes with a practiced seductiveness, he lowered his voice to a soft purr. “My lady, what good does dwelling on the past offer? Let me hear  _ your _ fantasies, my lady. Speak your will and I will obey, eagerly and without compromise.”

Caela’s fingers twitched, itching to pull him forward and throw him onto the bed—but that would not do. They had entered a battle of wills, now, and hers was not one to so quickly be sated. Instead, she settled for looping the leash around her fist once more, relishing the gasp that it pulled from her boy. The leash was pulled taught, now, and Phoenix had no room to move. She sighed theatrically, moving her index finger toward the cool metal ringing her pretty pet’s neck.

“Sweetheart, I spoke my will,” she said, sugaring her tone as she would a bitter drink. “I distinctly remember  _ willing _ you to tell me what had you so flustered this afternoon. And I  _ also _ remember not getting an answer. Now, my pretty bird, I’m giving you another chance. Another chance to give me an answer, another chance to avoid being a disobedient boy. And,” She paused, drawing her tongue across her bottom lip, ”I suggest you take this opportunity. After all, you wouldn’t want to be treated like a disobedient boy.”

Phoenix’s face flushed red, with arousal or shame Caela could not wholly be sure. She cocked an eyebrow, searching his face as she awaited an answer. He swore he could feel her gaze, two sharp dots drawing burning lines across his cheeks as he tried to gather himself. Stubbornly ignoring the heat suffusing both his face and the pit of his stomach, he let out a stuttering breath.

“My lady, I… I’m not-”

“You aren’t what?” Caela interrupted, leaning forward. She ran her fingers across his blush-warmed cheeks, smiling as his breath caught. No man was without his weakness, and she was quite familiar with  _ his _ . She would have her answers soon enough, to be sure. “You’re not a naughty boy, fit to be thrown over my lap and flogged? You’re not my disobedient little pet, dismissing my questions without fear of consequence? I’m being lenient, I think, with how many chances I have offered you. But even I have a limit, so be honest with me, pet—unless you want to be spanked and sent to your quarters.”

“No- No my lady, I-” Phoenix’s mouth felt too wet and too dry all at once, tongue sitting heavy in his mouth like a slab of uncut stone. “I wouldn’t mind. I’m- I want to be good. Teach me to be good, my- Mistress. My mistress. And, earlier, I simply noticed that you were- that you were stressed, and… and I thought maybe you would need some- some sort of outlet, and- and if you think-”

His rambling came to an abrupt stop as his Mistress filled his mouth with two fingers. Obediently, he began to suck, tongue flattening against the soft digits as he focused on the feeling of her hand in his mouth. Caela took advantage of his momentary silence, uttering her next orders in a tone not unlike the one she would use with a dog. “Straddle one of my thighs, pet. Quickly now; don’t keep me waiting.” 

Caela let her fingers fall from his greedy mouth, opting instead to push herself further back on her mattress. As he impatiently waited for his Mistress to situate herself properly, Phoenix sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and worried at it, too restless to sit still. His eyes fixed onto the length of chain bobbing and unraveling around Caela’s hand as she loosened her grip; he dared not blink lest he miss even a single, precious second of the beautiful scene before him.

As soon as Caela nodded her approval, Phoenix hastily climbed onto the bed, parting his knees around her right thigh as she tugged him forward with the leash. Her other hand drifted toward his cheek, barely grazing the clean-shaven skin before meandering toward the cool metal of his collar. Nearly so gently that he felt nothing, her fingers ran along the upper edge of the accessory, nails tickling the exposed flesh of his neck. 

He leaned into her hand, wordlessly begging her to touch him  _ more _ , kiss him  _ more _ , pull on his leash  _ harder _ . Her hands fell away all too soon, leaving his neck far too bare, even if it bore the ring of metal with which she marked her claim. Lowering his lids in what he hoped was a seductive, half-lidded expression, Phoenix leaned forward, pressing his clothed crotch to her thigh, rolling his hips in a daring invitation. His movements were halted as his Mistress slapped a palm to his chest, fingertips digging into his bare flesh.

“Eager, are we?” she queried conversationally, her other hand moving to muss the hair at the back of his head. He nodded, hips twitching again, before tilting his head back as an involuntary whimper escaped through his parted lips. Neck bared as if he were subdued prey, Phoenix thrust his chest forward against his Mistress’s palm, enjoying every moment of contact she gifted him, smiling demurely as she chuckled her amusement.

Caela eyed the soft expanse of Phoenix’s neck as a starving man would a roasted leg of lamb, tempted to lean forward and claim him with her lips and teeth. But no, it would be far too indulgent of her to do so, and he would enjoy it far too much. Instead, she moved one hand to the back of Phoenix’s neck and the other toward his nipple, rubbing her thumb over the dusky, stippled flesh as he pushed into her hand. 

“What a beauty you are,” she cooed, guiding his head toward the crook of her shoulder. He shuddered, hips thrusting against the warm flesh of her still-clothed thigh. Caela continued to pluck at his nipple, free hand traveling to grasp at his collar. She dipped her head, warm breath tickling the shell of Phoenix’s ear. “Come on, now, grind against my leg, my gorgeous boy, my obedient boy. Put on a little show for your mistress, won’t you?”

Phoenix whimpered as his hips bucked, once, twice, before settling into an erratic rhythm, cock occasionally slipping to and from his loosely wrapped garments to rub against his Mistress’s thigh. He gasped as she pulled the collar flush against his throat, the cool metal pressing so deliciously against his heat-flushed skin. A wanton moan escaped from his throat, but he was far too focused on the task at hand to feel any shame. 

Caela smiled at the noise and trailed her hand from his chest to his thigh, rubbing circles just inches away from where it would feel best. Her other hand remained at the back of his neck, pulling at his metal collar to maintain the sweet pressure that she knew had his eyes rolling. True to her expectations, Phoenix gasped, eyelashes fluttering as he jerked hard against her thigh. Caela allowed her fingers to stray just enough to brush the base of his cock.

A loud, pleading cry tore itself from Phoenix’s throat as he thrust his hips toward her fingers, his entire body listing to the side as he did so. “Please, Mistress! I-I want more! More, please, please,  _ please _ !” 

“More?” Caela played coy; she pulled more harshly at his collar, pretending to indulge his claims. Phoenix’s cries stuttered as the metal of the collar began to dig into his neck. “Are you sure you won’t choke, sweet one?”

“No, not-” Phoenix struggled to form words, in part because the collar was pulled tightly against his throat, and in part because the pleasure had begun to addle his mind. He began clumsily grasping at Caela’s arms, hands shaking as he continued to rut against her thigh. Frustrated and desperate beyond measure, Phoenix tried to guide his Mistress’s hands to his cock. 

“Hands off, my needy pet,” Caela scolded, batting his hands away. She ignored his cry of protest, instead moving her hand to begin toying with his balls as he thrust his hips forward in a wordless plea for  _ more _ . Caela dropped her hand from the back of his neck, using it instead to tilt his head until she could gently kiss at his ear. “I can tell that you are getting close, darling. You know better than to cum without my permission, don’t you, pet?”

Her question was answered with fervent nodding; Caela suspected the heady moans leaking steadily from his throat impeded a coherent verbal answer. Phoenix’s hips faltered, his fingers tightening against his Mistress’s arms. He dropped his forehead against her chest, mouthing kisses against her skin as a worshipper would their idol. With warmth suffusing his cheeks, Phoenix looked up through his lashes, offering his Mistress a demure look as he rocked unsteadily against her thigh.

Swallowing the new groan rising in his throat, Phoenix pleaded, “Let me finish, Mistress. I’ve behaved today, haven’t I? I’ve been a good boy for you, it’s all… it’s all I ever want to be, so please, please grant me- grant me permission. I want to cum for you, Mistress!”

Caela couldn’t help the delicious shiver that danced down her spine at the lovely sound of his mind-addled pleasure—pleasure that  _ she _ dictated, pleasure that  _ she _ could do with as she wished to. Phoenix bucked against her as he mumbled his trembling entreaties into the crook of her shoulder, drunk with desperation and shuddering with want. Without warning, Caela suddenly curled one hand around Phoenix’s collar and the other around his cock, squeezing hard. 

Taken by surprise, Phoenix couldn’t stifle the loud keen that tore itself from his throat. Color suffused his face as he heard his wanton cry, but he didn’t have a chance to think twice; Caela pulled his collar taut against his throat as she began to pump his cock, tilting her head to press a line of ravenous kisses against his throat. Phoenix choked down a stifled mewl as he rutted into her hand, eyes rolling back as his head grew light for want of air.

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Caela ordered, low and loving. His hips stuttered against her thighs; he felt all too much and nowhere near enough, all at once. Barely lucid enough to process her command, he nodded faintly, the movement restricted by his collar. He was drunk on the fire coursing through his veins, the feeling of her hands on his cock and his collar against his throat.

“Mistress, I’m- I’m cumming, please-” Phoenix’s words broke off into a howl as he came, wonderfully dizzy and hot all over. Caela loosened her hold on his collar, allowing him to fall against her as he rode out his high, muffling his cries against her shoulder as his hips shuddered. Loosening her grip on his cock, Caela used her free hand to tilt his face toward hers before capturing his trembling lips in a kiss.

Phoenix returned the kiss with a hungry fervor, pressing himself against his Mistress as if he wished to melt into her as would hot butter on bread. Briefly breaking away to fill his lungs, he tentatively raised his arms and clasped them around her neck, slowly regaining his wits as he pulled her gently to the side; he clumsily rolled from atop her thigh onto the sheets beside her, hands still linked behind her as a shyly possessive claim.

“I love you,” he offered, tugging himself toward his Mistress and slotting himself under her chin. She hummed her wordless reciprocation, busying herself with decorating the soft mess of his hair with fresh kisses. He tilted his head to look up at her, blinking slowly. “We should clean up, my lady, before we sleep.”

Caela paused between kisses. “We can bathe in the morning. Shall we undress and be done with it? I’m sure we would both do well to rest sooner rather than later.” 

She briefly untangled herself from Phoenix to shimmy out of her garments. Frowning at the loss of contact, Phoenix did the same; he gathered her linens with his own and discarded them off the side of the bed. Caela unlinked the chain from his collar, coiling it around her hand before sliding it beneath her pillow. She reached to unclasp his collar, fingers skating over the warmed metal, but was immediately interrupted by Phoenix, who gently removed her hands from his neck.

“I want to keep it on,” he explained, tucking himself back into Caela’s arms. After a pause, he quietly added, “I think it’s really nice being yours.”

“You are always mine, with or without the collar,” Caela said, “but sleep will come easier without it.”

“I am yours, always,” Phoenix agreed. He sighed contentedly, nestled securely beside her. “But it’s so lovely to have the reminder. Besides, it is not uncomfortable. I sleep in it often.”

“Do you?” It was more a statement than a question, but, either way, Caela definitely sounded pleased. “As long as you’re comfortable, dear pet, I will not think twice of it. Perhaps I should buy you a softer one? A collar for sleeping, perhaps to match with some sort of sleepwear? Soft leather would be lovely to look at, but perhaps a velvet one would be more comfortable. Anything would suit you beautifully, so I might have to commission multiple of them…”

Caela’s words trailed to a stop as she noticed that Phoenix’s breathing had slowed into a soft, regular rhythm. The peaceful expression gracing his sleeping face filled Caela with an affectionate warmth, and she stifled a yawn. The drowsiness that had plagued her earlier this evening had resettled itself atop her eyelids, weighing them down. She allowed herself to close her eyes and melt into the warmth of Phoenix’s delicate form, pressing a soft kiss against his hair as sleep approached her. 

“Good night, Phoenix.”

She was content.


End file.
